Cecily                    Gwendolen

Merriman. A Miss Fairfax has just called to see Mr. Worthing.

Cecily. Pray let me introduce myself to you. My name is Cecily Cardew.

Gwendolen. What a very sweet name! Something tells me that we are going to be great friends. I like you already more than I can say. My first impressions of people are never wrong.

Cecily. How nice of you to like me so much after we have known each other such a comparatively short time.

Gwendolen. I may call you Cecily, may I not?

Cecily. With pleasure!

Gwendolen. And you will always call me Gwendolen, won’t you?

Cecily. If you wish.

Gwendolen. My father is Lord Bracknell. You have never heard of papa, I suppose?

Cecily. I don’t think so.

Gwendolen. Outside the family circle, papa, I am glad to say, is entirely unknown. I think that is quite as it should be. The home seems to me to be the proper sphere for the man. And certainly once a man begins to neglect his domestic duties he becomes painfully effeminate, does he not? And I don’t like that. It makes men so very attractive.

Gwendolen. You are here on a short visit, I suppose.

Cecily. Oh no! I live here.

Gwendolen. Really? Your mother, no doubt, or some female relative of advanced years, resides here also?

Cecily. Oh no! I have no mother, nor, in fact, any relations.  I am Mr. Worthing’s ward.

Gwendolen. Oh! It is strange he never mentioned to me that he had a ward. I am not sure, however, that the news inspires me with feelings of unmixed delight. I am very fond of you, Cecily; but to speak with perfect candour, I wish that you were fully forty-two, and more than usually plain for your age. Ernest has a strong upright nature. But even men of the noblest possible moral character are extremely susceptible to the influence of the physical charms of others.

Cecily. Oh, but it is not Mr. Ernest Worthing who is my guardian. It is his brother - his elder brother.

Gwendolen. Ernest never mentioned to me that he had a brother.  Of course you are quite, quite sure that it is not Mr. Ernest Worthing who is your guardian?

Cecily. Quite sure. In fact, I am going to be his.

Gwendolen. I beg your pardon?

Cecily. Dearest Gwendolen, there is no reason why I should make a secret of it to you.  Mr. Ernest Worthing and I are engaged to be married.

Gwendolen. My darling Cecily, I think there must be some slight error. Mr. Ernest Worthing is engaged to me.

Cecily. I am afraid you must be under some misconception. Ernest proposed to me exactly ten minutes ago.

Gwendolen. It is certainly very curious, for he asked me to be his wife yesterday afternoon at 5.30. If you would care to verify the incident, pray do so.  I never travel without my diary. One should always have something sensational to read in the train. I am so sorry, dear Cecily, if it is any disappointment to you, but I am afraid I have the prior claim.

Cecily. It would distress me more than I can tell you, dear Gwendolen, if it caused you any mental or physical anguish, but I feel bound to point out that since Ernest proposed to you he clearly has changed his mind.

Gwendolen. If the poor fellow has been entrapped into any foolish promise I shall consider it my duty to rescue him at once, and with a firm hand.

Cecily. Whatever unfortunate entanglement my dear boy may have got into, I will never reproach him with it after we are married.

Gwendolen. Do you allude to me, Miss Cardew, as an entanglement? You are presumptuous. On an occasion of this kind it becomes more than a moral duty to speak one’s mind. It becomes a pleasure.

Cecily. Do you suggest, Miss Fairfax, that I entrapped Ernest into an engagement? How dare you? This is no time for wearing the shallow mask of manners. When I see a spade I call it a spade.

Gwendolen. I am glad to say that I have never seen a spade. It is obvious that our social spheres have been widely different.

Gwendolen. Are there many interesting walks in the vicinity, Miss Cardew?

Cecily. Oh! yes! a great many. From the top of one of the hills quite close one can see five counties.

Gwendolen. Five counties! I don’t think I should like that; I hate crowds.

Cecily. I suppose that is why you live in town?

Cecily. May I offer you some tea, Miss Fairfax?

Gwendolen. Thank you. Detestable girl! But I require tea!

Cecily. Sugar?

Gwendolen. No, thank you. Sugar is not fashionable any more.

Cecily. Cake or bread and butter?

Gwendolen. Bread and butter, please. Cake is rarely seen at the best houses nowadays.

Gwendolen. You have filled my tea with lumps of sugar, and though I asked most distinctly for bread and butter, you have given me cake. I am known for the gentleness of my disposition, and the extraordinary sweetness of my nature, but I warn you, Miss Cardew, you may go too far.

Cecily. To save my poor, innocent, trusting boy from the machinations of any other girl there are no lengths to which I would not go.

Gwendolen. From the moment I saw you I distrusted you. I felt that you were false and deceitful. I am never deceived in such matters. My first impressions of people are invariably right.

Gwendolen. Ernest! My own Ernest!

Jack. Gwendolen! Darling!

Gwendolen. May I ask if you are engaged to be married to this young lady?

Jack. To dear little Cecily! Of course not! What could have put such an idea into your pretty little head?

Gwendolen. Thank you.

Cecily. I knew there must be some misunderstanding, Miss Fairfax. The gentleman whose arm is at present round your waist is my guardian, Mr. John Worthing.

Gwendolen. I beg your pardon?

Cecily. This is Uncle Jack.

Gwendolen. Jack! Oh!

Cecily. Here is Ernest.

Algernon. My own love!

Cecily. May I ask you - are you engaged to be married to this young lady?

Algernon. To what young lady? Good heavens! Gwendolen!

Cecily. Yes! to good heavens, Gwendolen, I mean to Gwendolen.

Algernon. Of course not! What could have put such an idea into your pretty little head?

Cecily. Thank you.

Gwendolen. I felt there was some slight error, Miss Cardew. The gentleman who is now embracing you is my cousin, Mr. Algernon Moncrieff.

Cecily. Algernon Moncrieff! Oh!

Cecily. Are you called Algernon?

Algernon. I cannot deny it.

Cecily. Oh!

Gwendolen. Is your name really John?

Jack. I could deny it if I liked. I could deny anything if I liked. But my name certainly is John. It has been John for years.

Cecily. A gross deception has been practised on both of us.

Gwendolen. My poor wounded Cecily!

Cecily. My sweet wronged Gwendolen!

Gwendolen. You will call me sister, will you not?

Gwendolen. Mr. Worthing, there is just one question I would like to be permitted to put to you. Where is your brother Ernest? We are both engaged to be married to your brother Ernest, so it is a matter of some importance to us to know where your brother Ernest is at present.

Jack. Gwendolen - Cecily - it is very painful for me to be forced to speak the truth. It is the first time in my life that I have ever been reduced to such a painful position, and I am really quite inexperienced in doing anything of the kind. However, I will tell you quite frankly that I have no brother Ernest. I have no brother at all. I never had a brother in my life, and I certainly have not the smallest intention of ever having one in the future.

Cecily. No brother at all?

Jack. None!

Gwendolen. Had you never a brother of any kind?

Jack. Never. Not even of any kind.

Gwendolen. I am afraid it is quite clear, Cecily, that neither of us is engaged to be married to any one.

Cecily. It is not a very pleasant position for a young girl suddenly to find herself in. Is it?

Gwendolen. Let us go into the house. They will hardly venture to come after us there.

Cecily. No, men are so cowardly, aren’t they?